I Heard a Bird Sing
by the quintessence of wyrd
Summary: Sequel to April Rain Song. Draco obsessively stalks Luna after their happenstance at Nemo's Corner. Luna is put into a perilous situation, and Draco experiences a total uneclipse of the heart. R&R.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Harry Potter characters, places, things, etc., etc.

-------

_I heard a bird sing_

_In the dark of December_

_A magical thing_

_And sweet to remember._

"_We are nearer to Spring_

_Than we were in September,"_

_I heard the bird sing_

_In the dark of December._

_-Oliver Herford_

-------

If someone had told Draco Malfoy that in several years he would find himself outside Luna Lovegood's apartment past midnight with a pair of Omnioculars at hand, reputation lost and life in ruins, he would have scoffed at the absurdity of it all and hexed the person who had been stupid enough to say it to his face. And yet here he was, his car parked across the street from the complex, his eyes fixed upon the blonde's every movement in the range of her bedroom window. At the moment, Luna was reading serenely in bed. _The Quibbler,_ Draco presumed, by the large bold print across the cover.

Draco zoomed in on her calm facial features, twirling the dials on his Omnioculars expertly as if he did this everyday (which unfortunately, he did). Luna's large pale eyes were a pearly bluish color and her soft, tousled hair fell around her shoulders and was illuminated by the lamplight, framing her angular face. He could not tear his eyes away. Still holding the Omnioculars to his eyes, he used his free hand to put a Styrofoam cup of steaming black coffee to his lips. A pick-me-up from Nemo's. It was the only sustenance he took through nights like these.

He continued to gaze at her. The longing stored in his shattered heart shone through the expression on his face. He stared at an unaware Luna hungrily. _We run in different circles,_ she had said.

_We run in different circles._

He wanted her so damn badly. The remnants of his heart ached for her. A part of Draco was apprehensive. He had never felt such strong emotions. Usually he was detached from his feelings since his parents had taught him to constrain such frivolity. He had been apathetic and emotionless for so long such feelings of yearning startled him, frightened him. This "emotion" was completely new and foreign to him. He had never known he could love with his fragmented heart. But Luna had changed all that. Hope pulsated somewhere deep inside him, his mind feeding on the warmth. Yes, they ran in different circles, but eventually the circles would interlock.

-------


	2. Running in Circles

**A/N:** I've come to accept the fact that very, very few people are going to read this and review. First of all, because people are hypocritical slackers. Second of all...that's pretty much all there is to it. However, I will continue this story anyway, in hopes that a reformation will take over the wave of fanfiction authors in the near future. -hopes-

**Disclaimer:** I do not own J.K. Rowling's brilliant ideas and characters. I do not even own myself, completely. XD

-------

It had all started with their happenstance at Luna's workplace. Since then Draco could not get Luna out of his mind. He closed his eyes and saw her. He dreamed of her. He knocked over twelve people in the street trying to get to her, only to find it wasn't her but a random stranger. He unconsciously traced her name on every possible flat surface and her vague smile and penetrating eyes flitted in and out of his waking thoughts. He wanted to see her; in fact, he _needed_ to see her.

He worked up the courage to visit her three days after Luna had left him bitterly brooding at the table in the coffeehouse alone. He burst in and his heart leapt at the sight of a dirty blonde mane moving aimlessly through the crowds of caffeine addicts and coffee junkies, wand tucked behind one ear and her cheery yellow plaid robes in disarray. He seized Luna and dragged her to a secluded corner of the café. "Luna," he said stiffly, still holding onto her hands. She looked up him, strange emotions flickering through her eyes that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Suddenly Draco didn't know what to say. "How…have you…been?" he asked awkwardly.

Luna smiled dreamily. "I'm fine, Draco. In a few months I'll be having my baby. I need to work overtime until then."

"Oh." He let go of her hands. She watched him for a minute, then said, "I really need to get back to work, so-"

Draco nodded bleakly. He watched as she walked away from him the second time that week. He sat down at one of the tables and continued to watch until a saucy waitress informed him that only paying customers could have seating.

-------

Draco continued to visit the coffee shop, but Luna refused his advances. Soon it grew to dodging him so that whenever he came by, she would suddenly disappear. He questioned the other waiters and they gave him insolent stares. Still he ordered whatever they had, plunked himself down in a corner table, sat and waited until Luna appeared again. Once he waited until closing and when the manager kicked him out, he stood outside, his face pressed to the glass, feeling oddly empty.

He finally gave up after a week or so of this and returned to the refuge of his lonely manor, where he would sit around and stare out the window, listless and pale. His hair, usually slicked back neatly with high-priced hair products, was now an unkempt mess. The circles under his eyes grew darker and his health wasted away. He shouted at his house-elves for looking too happy and shut himself up in his study, where he wrote long letters to Luna that were pointless because he knew she would never read them anyway, or rather he would never send them. But it was a way to vent out his feelings, so everyday he took out a quill and a bottle of ink and began to scratch away at the parchment.

_Lovegood,_

_I've been meaning to have a talk with you, but I suppose you're too busy being loony to have time for me._

_Lovegood,_

_I need to talk to you. I apologize if it will inconvenience you, but…_

_Luna,_

_I can't stop thinking about you. I'm sorry that I kissed you, if that's what this is all about. I really want to see you, to talk to you_

_Luna,_

_I know I was a prat to you before, and I'm sorry. I was thinking we could get together sometime and talk things over. I want to know that you're all right_

_Luna,_

_How's the weather today? Me? I don't particularly enjoy it. It seems it always rains now…_

_Luna,_

_Today I was perusing the gift shops in Diagon Alley and came across a pendant that reminded me of you. I am sure you would have liked it. It was different. Different, but nice…_

_Luna,_

_I think I love you. You're the only thing in my life right now that feels right. You have no idea how it is to be me sometimes. Then again, I have no idea what it's like to be you. We're almost the same, really. We have lost so much and gained so little. I wish we could share this. _

He sent the friendly ones filled with light conversation and hearty chatter to her, and kept the intimate letters in a locked drawer in his desk. For two months he wrote these letters to her; she never answered, until one day, as Draco was nodding off in a leather armchair by the fire, an owl fluttered through the window, startling him. He untied the envelope from the owl's leg, hands trembling, and ripped open the envelope to find two sheets of parchment inside, addressed to Draco, from Luna. The first was a letter.

_Dear Draco,_

_I'm sorry I haven't written. I've been busy lately…and…it's quite silly of me to be lying in a letter so I will spare you the excuses. I'm afraid, Draco. I'm tired of this life and I want to cast it off like an article of clothing that doesn't fit right. But I live on in hopes of raising a child that will someday know his purpose in life and perhaps even catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack or two. And Draco, I know you wish to see me but…I think it's better that we don't. Misery loves company as they say, and it won't make us feel any better. I have my reasons, and you must have yours. Live life the way you always have-pretend I was never there. I have to end this letter here-I'm going to put flowers on Daddy's grave. He just died recently, from a magical Sweden disease known as flevjaklikka (which is a particularly nice way to die, I am sure). He never did like flowers, but I think he will appreciate the gesture. _

_Sincerely yours,_

_Luna Lovegood_

_P.S. Since I have taken over as editor of _The Quibbler _for Daddy, I will no longer be working at Nemo's Corner. _

Draco glanced at the other sheet of parchment. It was a black-and-white sketch of interlocking circles. The only circles that weren't linked were the ones farthest apart from each other. A girl with long straggly hair and wide eyes sat contently on her circle, staring dreamily up at the sky-Luna. A boy, presumably Draco, his hands in his pockets and a sour expression on his face, stared determinedly at the ground, standing awkwardly on his. Draco tore both the letter and the drawing into pieces, out of frustration. This was not what he had expected. Well, some part of him _had_ expected it, but it was not what he had wanted. Later, out of remorse, he picked up the bits that had scattered all over the floor and pieced them together, taping them with Spellotape. There. He unlocked his drawer of taboo love letters and dropped the letter and sketch from Luna in with them; a stash of what-ifs that had just turned into make-believes.

And so every time the rain would pitter patter on his windowsill without cease, Draco would pull open this stash, read the letter, and little drops would splatter the page and wet it, blurring the ink. And it wasn't the rain.

-------

Raining again. Draco sat in his usual place by the fire, pondering over things. Namely Luna. Still, he couldn't help it. His mind was so set on being fixated upon her to a point where he didn't know when he would ever feel alive again. It had been a month since Luna had owled him the letter; it had also been an unusually rainy summer.

Suddenly he got up and walked over to the front door. He threw it open and stepped hesitantly outside; the last time he recalled ever setting foot over the threshold was to buy a bottle of fire whiskey from the local pub. That was nearly a month ago. He surveyed the slick cobblestone paths and damp grass. He made up his mind, snatched up his warmest cloak, fastened it on, and headed outside into the unrelenting rain.

"Where are you going, Master?" squeaked a house-elf behind him. "Nowhere," he snapped back, and continued walking with a furious stride. The manor gates parted to allow him access to the outside world, and he halted just as they slowly closed behind them. Great. Now where did he want to go now, in the midst of a downpour? His feet suddenly picked up off the ground, and he began walking again. He let his feet carry him to places he wasn't familiar with and with every twist and turn he felt even more lost. Impossible, he thought to himself. He had lost himself a long time ago.

He kept walking and walking and walking and eventually broke into a run, as if something was chasing him and he didn't want it to catch him. He was running away from his fears, his blatant reality, his forsaken life. He gave up and slowed to a walk again, breathing hard.

Draco's feet abruptly jerked to a stop and he stumbled. He stared around at his surroundings. He was in the front of an apartment building. Several cars streaked past by. The lampposts made pools of yellow light on the pavement and asphalt. It was still raining. He sat on a vacant bench and waited to die.

A figure was approaching in the distance. Draco shrank away from the light and hid himself in the darkness, watching the figure come closer, their features starting to become more apparent by the second-

"Luna?" The word tumbled out of his mouth as if he didn't dare believe it, sounding foreign on his tongue. He watched her shiver in her cloak, her stomach ever larger, walk up the stairs, unlock the door to #7, fold up her umbrella, and step inside.

So now he knew where Luna Lovegood lived.

-------

He didn't mean to, of course. It just happened. He started coming by everyday-not that he bothered Luna in any way. He simply stayed hidden and watched her every move. She always left at dawn-to work, Draco presumed-and returned in the evenings. On Saturday afternoons she wouldn't be there-he knew this because the curtains stayed closed and the windows dark-she would go to Diagon Alley for grocery shopping and some ice cream, as he had once followed her there. On Sundays she would disappear for an hour or two in the morning, to visit her parents' graves. Otherwise she stayed at home, reading books and amusing herself over whatever was on the telly.

At first Draco would only come just for an hour or so, during daylight hours. Then it grew to watching her all day, only leaving to get something to eat. He memorized the way between his manor to her apartment, and didn't have to ask for directions like he had before. Before he had walked, now he drove; he would park his sleek black car across the street, where a row of two-story houses were situated. And when he bought a pair of Omnioculars from a vendor in Diagon Alley, where he was watching Luna from fifty feet away eat a Snozzberry Peanut Butter Pineapple Chocolate Swirl Sorbet, he knew he was obsessed.

The days soon slipped by, and stalking Luna became a hobby of Draco's. He was content with trailing behind her when she went on walks, with watching her get ready for work, and with hearing her infectious laugh float out through the open window. It's official, he thought grimly, as he set himself up for another stakeout, I have no life.

The scenario was different this time, though. It was a Wednesday afternoon. Luna had a day off from work, and was most likely in the kitchen, where he could not see her. He waited in his car, drinking a bottle of water when all of a sudden he heard a loud crack. His head automatically turned to the sound; he let out a sharp intake of breath-it was Harry.

Harry knocked on the door. "Luna! Are you there? We need to talk." There was no answer from inside. "Look, I know you're in there. Please open the door and let me explain myself." He knocked again. "LUNA!"

Draco suddenly felt a prick of anger. The prick slowly became a tidal wave that washed over him. He let himself out of his car and the tidal wave of anger propelled him over to where Harry was banging on the door and pleading with an unresponsive Luna. "Well, well, well," Draco drawled, leaning against the railing, "if it isn't Saint Potter, the hero of our time."

Harry stopped in mid-knock and glared at Draco. "What are you doing here?"

"I believe that would fall under the category of 'none of your business,'" Draco replied smoothly.

"Whatever. I don't have time for this." Harry began banging on the door again, yelling for Luna to come out and talk with him. Draco watched him coolly. "I suggest you stop bothering her, Potter."

Harry's face was contorted into a mixture of hatred and spite. "Since when did you ever care about Luna? All you did was mock her in Hogwarts. You just better stay away or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" asked Draco idly, raising an eyebrow. "Cheat on me with the blood traitor?"

Harry froze. His face turned pale, and he licked his lips nervously. "How did you…"

"I know many things," said Draco arrogantly.

"Well, you don't know the whole story then," said Harry flatly.

"I think I've got a pretty good grasp on it," remarked Draco. "You were screwing around with the Weasley girl while Luna was at home reading your letters of fake promises and loyalty."

"Look, how is this any of your business?" snapped Harry.

Draco shrugged. "It's not your business anymore either, Potter, remember? You've been doing your little business with somebody else, _Ginny-"_

"Shut up, Draco, and stay away from Luna." Harry pulled out his wand. His face was white, this time with rage.

"Ooh, touchy, aren't you?" teased Draco.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" yelled Harry furiously. "I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW SHE WAS PREGNANT-"

Draco snorted. "And I supposed that was a good reason for two-timing her?"

Harry suddenly lost it. A beam of red light grazed the spot Draco had occupied two seconds previously.The spell ricocheted off the railing, knocking over a ceramic plant holder where it smashed into shards on the ground. Draco didn't think-he had no time-he simply strode forward to where Harry's lips silently moved to form the beginnings of another spell, his fist connecting with Harry's face. Harry's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he collapsed, blood gushing thickly from his nose, forming a puddle on his face. Draco heard footsteps from inside Luna's apartment and swiftly ducked behind a huddle of rubbish bins.

The door swung open and Luna stepped outside, wearing white robes patterned with sunflowers, her straggly hair pulled back with a black ribbon. Her eyes widened in surprise at an unconscious Harry sprawled on her front porch. She knelt down and heaved him onto her lap, cradling his face in her small hands, using her wand to siphon off the blood, a look of tenderness upon her face. Draco looked on incredulously; after all Harry had done to her, she _still_ cared about him? And after all _he_ had done for her, she didn't, for him? He felt a pang of jealousy as he watched her gently stroke Harry's face and with difficulty, pick him up, then help him inside. She returned a few minutes later, her face turned up to the sun, both hands placed on her swollen stomach. She would be eight months now, Draco thought. His muscles hurt from being cramped behind the bins, and plus the smell was starting to get to him, but all he could do was gaze at Luna in wonder; she looked beautiful under the setting sun. All of a sudden he heard Luna's soft, mellifluous voice drift towards him. "I know you're there, Draco."

Draco gave a resolute sigh and got up from his hiding place behind the rubbish bins. Luna faced him and he let out another sharp intake of breath; it had been months since they had come face-to-face with each other. He savored this moment and masked it by staring at Luna indifferently.

Luna spoke. "You didn't have to hurt him you know."

Draco shrugged, irritated that she was defending him, of all people. "He deserved it."

Luna didn't answer. Her eyes rested on his face. Draco suddenly felt naked. "What are you going to do with Saint Potter?" he asked, trying to ignore the feeling of vulnerability that had crept over him.

"Discuss things." She said no more, and Draco felt it unseemly had he asked.

A silence fell between them. After a while of Draco staring at Luna and Luna looking off into the horizon, her lips moved slightly. "I know you've been following me."

Draco froze; how had she known? It must've been when he was following her to the flower shop she visited last week, he thought. Well, he had _thought_ he had followed her there quite stealthily. Then again-

"Do you have something to say?" asked Luna, turning towards him again, looking at him expectedly.

Draco regarded her coldly. "I looked away while you were undressing," he offered, smirking.

It was then Luna struck him in the face. It was a stinging slap that left a red handprint on Draco'sleft cheek. His eyes widened in shock-it was such an unLuna-like thing to do he simply stared. He registered anger in Luna's eyes-sadness, too, and…did he see a hint of happiness in there, as well? He slowly put a hand to his throbbing cheek, and touched it gingerly. "Ow," he said listlessly. Draco for one had never been good with emotions.

Luna stared at him. And then suddenly, without warning, she grabbed the lapels of Draco's robes, yanking him towards her, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Draco staggered back from the impact, Luna's lips still on his, and his eyes grew wide again as Luna slipped her tongue in. He and Luna were…snogging? Was this real? He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around Luna as her hands cupped his face. His hands slid from the small of her back to her hair to her waist; he wanted to feel how solid she was, lest it _was_ just a dream. In any case, he liked feeling the contours of her body.

Luna, just as she had unexpectedly kissed him, unexpectedly broke away, her hands still clasping Draco's face. She gazed at him, her blazing silver eyes clouding over with troubling thoughts, reverting to the palest gray. Draco stared at her, bewildered. Were all girls as unconstrained and complicated as Luna? He wouldn't know.

"You should leave," Luna said abruptly. Her hands dropped to her sides.

Ouch. That stung more than the slap. "Luna, I…"

"Just go," she said wearily. She started walking away from him, towards her flat. Oh, no. Not again. Draco grabbed her hand. "Luna…I…I think I love you." The words fell out of his mouth. He sounded uncertain and frightened and inwardly berated himself for sounding so weak and foolish.

Luna stiffened. Then her shoulders began to tremble. Draco wordlessly spun her around and pulled her into his warm embrace. She laid a palm on his chest to feel the steady beat of his heart, closed her eyes, and sighed. They stayed like this for what seemed like an eternity; then, with resolution, she slowly, reluctantly, pushed him away. "Please leave."

Draco watched helplessly as she left him a third time. He felt even worse. He would rather Luna not kiss him at all than kiss him and then leave it at that. He stared at the front door for a long while and slowly, reluctantly, made his way to his car, where he drove off in such a fury the nearby birds flew off the telephone wires and squawked in indignation. And when he looked back, he saw Luna at her window, with her penetrating eyes and ghost of a smile.

-------


	3. The Sphere of Influence

**Disclaimer:** Frankly my dear, you know the rest.

-------

September. He grew restless. He went to the local pub and wasted away, drinking copious amounts of alcohol. For weeks he would wake up and not know where he was, or what he had done, but somehow he would find his way home. Then he would go back to the pub, pass out, and…it was a vicious cycle. An endless cycle. Luna was right. They ran in different, distant circles that would never intertwine.

One day he was stumbling along the street, liquor slurring his speech and blurring his vision. Someone hurried towards him. He blinked and tried to make out the hazy figure, but passed out instead.

He woke up on someone's sofa with a tremendous headache. Someone was wiping his brow with a cool cloth. His eyes stayed closed. "Luna…?"

"Shh," whispered a voice softly somewhere above him. Draco's eyes flew open. There she was, in the flesh. He immediately sat up and the world spun before his very eyes. He groaned and flopped back down, feeling woozy and slightly nauseous.

"Here. Drink this." Luna gave him a beaker filled to the brim with a blackish green liquid.

Draco took a sip and spat it out. "Are you trying to poison me, woman?"

Luna giggled. "No, it's one of my grandmother's elixirs. It's supposed to cure hangovers. Either that or it makes your toenails grow longer-I could never remember. They do share very similar ingredients, you know."

He handed the beaker back to her, avoiding her concerned eyes. "It's okay. I'm fine now," replied Draco shortly.

Luna nodded. Draco stared at the ceiling. "Draco." He looked back at her stonily.

Luna rested her hand on top of his. "Please stop drinking. I know you're doing it because of me. I don't want to be the cause of it."

"Excuse me, Lovegood, but the world does not revolve around you," Draco snapped. He shook her hand off of his. Luna looked at him, hurt. Draco did not care. She had hurt him a million times over.

"Draco, if this is about-" Luna began, but Draco cut her off. "Get with the program, Loony. I. Don't. Care. Next time you see me pass out on the streets, do me a favor and kindly leave me there." He dusted off his robes and without so much as another glance at his rescuer, Disapparated, feeling emptier than ever before.

-------

He returned that night. He couldn't help himself. He knew he had hurt Luna and his conscience wouldn't let him get away with it. He sat in his car, his fingers drumming the steering wheel, watching Luna tenderly kiss the infant she held in the crook of her arm. So she had her baby, he mused. When? He stared at the baby with its green eyes and dark hair via the Omnioculars. It was revolting how much it resembled Saint Potter.

The baby gurgled and Luna smiled. She carried it to its crib and gently put it down. She returned to her bedside and slowly undressed, like a private striptease meant only for him. She slid off her robes and they lay in a pile at her feet, revealing a lacy black bra and panties. Draco watched, fascinated. She slipped on her nightdress and got into bed, turning off the light, bringing Draco to his senses. He shook his head; _why_ did he watch her? Now he was only going to become even more obsessed.

-------

He began stalking her again, but only three or four times a week. If he couldn't have her, then he would watch her, he reasoned. He found out the baby was a boy, and Luna had named him Artemis. She spent her nights feeding him, bathing him, playing with him, and her eyes grew bright with silver fire. She was happy, and he could see that. It was just too bad he wasn't.

It was a Thursday afternoon; the sun was just setting. Draco was flipping through a magazine without interest in the backseat of his car, waiting for Luna to return to her apartment, the windows being shut and no light emanating from within. It was strange, because Luna usually stayed home, tending to her baby. He presumed she had run out to get something and would be back in a few minutes. But she did not return and in an hour Draco grew bored. He got out of the car, walked briskly up the stairs, and pressed his ear to Luna's apartment door. There was no sound. Then, on a whim, he climbed up onto the roof, and studied the view. It was nice-picturesque and tranquil, consisting of a forest laced with pretty underbrush and a spring with an ornamented bridge built across it-and as he scanned the treetops, his heart felt at ease. Everything was quiet.

As Draco was admiring the view, he saw something in the corner of his eye-in the spring. A funny-colored, oddly-shaped, out-of-place…_something._ His brow furrowed; what was it, exactly? He Apparated near the stream for a closer look.

He froze. There was a body, floating in the water, and what was more, it was _Luna's_ body. Draco highly doubted she had just gone in for a swim. Her head bobbed above the water once, then disappeared under the surface.

Draco shrugged off his cloak and with no regard for his expensive designer robes, dove into the water without hesitation. He could not help but let out a gasp; the water was numbingly cold. Just how long had Luna been out here?

He ducked underneath the water, ignoring the chill, and swam with hard, fast strokes to where he could see a falling body slowly sink to the bottom of the spring. It was Luna, her face pale and her eyes closed. The spring was unusually deep and as Luna went down she looked eerie in the moonlight, like a lethargic dancer gracelessly moving her arms and legs to some internal rhythm pulled from the recesses of her soul. Her pale green robes billowed out from beneath her and her hair spread out like reaching tendrils. He managed to reach her and get a good grip around her waist. Struggling, Draco swam for shore and with effort, managed to drag Luna onto dry land, panting heavily from the strain. He covered her with his cloak and felt her pulse; it was weak and sluggish. He brushed strands of Luna's hair away from her face, pull out his wand and pointed it at her, and whispered, _"Anapneo."_ He watched anxiously as Luna coughed up a good amount of water, her chest rising and falling as she gasped for breath, her eyes still closed.

Draco slung her over his shoulder and Disapparated.

-------

He Apparated into Luna's apartment and gently set her down on the sofa. He glanced around warily; where was her son? He headed for Luna's bedroom. The crib was empty. No matter. There were other tasks to deal with at the moment. Draco opened one of the drawers of Luna's wardrobe and rummaged through it to find some clean, dry robes. He strode into the living room again where Luna lay limp and still and tore off her wet ones to replace them with the robes he had found. Then he carried her to her bedroom and tucked her underneath the covers of her bed, and watched as the color returned to her cheeks and her breathing became even.

Draco wearily went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea, his head buzzing with questions. Why was Luna in the spring, and where was her child? He swallowed, wondering whether a Death Eater had come to collect the baby and attempted to dispose of Luna. It _was _Saint Potter's son, after all. They would either want to kill it or raise it to become the next Dark Lord, out of irony and spite.

When Draco returned to Luna's bedroom with a cup of tea, he found that Luna had thrown off the covers and was tossing and turning, mumbling in her sleep. Her cheeks were flushed and her forehead glistened with perspiration. "Artemis, Artemis-" she called out agitatedly, quivering uncontrollably.

Draco set down the cup of tea on her bedside table and lifted Luna into his lap, cradling her like a small child, making shushing noises. He felt Luna's forehead; she had a high fever. He pried open her mouth so she could drink the tea; she coughed as it went down, sighed, and snuggled into Draco's arms. He stroked her hair, whispering words of comfort to her ears. He stayed like this all night, his arms sore from holding Luna, so when Luna's eyes flew open and she screamed, Draco was there, quieting her, forcing her to drink more tea until she had sweated out the fever and no longer burst out with long strings of gibberish and cries for her son.

It was five in the morning when Draco woke up, startled; he was lying on Luna's bed, Luna curled fast asleep in his arms. He shifted slightly to position himself more comfortably. Luna stirred; Draco flinched. She smiled sleepily and clung to him. "I knew you would come, Dad," she breathed. "I knew it. How was heaven?"

Draco did not know how to answer that. "It was…good. Great. Wonderful."

She gave a little smile and buried her head into his chest, wrapping her weak arms around his neck. Draco slowly put his arms around Luna, his lips in her hair, although it felt wrong, as if he was taking advantage of her in her hallucinatory state. And maybe he was, but he would not leave Luna's side until she got better.

He spent three days nursing Luna back to health; her fever rose and dwindled, as did her dreamlike state. She would moan and ask, "Where is Artemis? Where is Artemis?" to which Draco could not reply. Sometimes Luna would force him to play her father's part, to which his insides would twist into knots as he guiltily lied to her, pretending to be someone he was not. "Daddy, are we going to the zoo today?" she asked once, her blank eyes staring right through Draco as if he were not there. "Maybe some other time," Draco would answer, and Luna would nod indolently.

It was Sunday morning. Draco was wiping Luna's brow with a cool cloth when Luna's eyes fluttered open and she asked, "Daddy, do you love me?"

As Draco uneasily replied yes, Luna whispered, "Then where did you go? Why did you leave me?"

Draco's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. How the bloody hell was he suppose to answer that? "Well…because…" he trailed off, and before he could come up with an answer, she continued despairingly, "After Mother died, you were the only one…everyone hated me, everyone laughed…there was nobody there for me…but it didn't matter, because I had you. I used to have Artemis, but now he's gone." Tears coursed down her cheeks. "He died, Daddy, just like you, just like Mother. Didn't I take good care of him?" She was talking to herself now. "Drowning isn't quite so bad…I don't have anything left in this world to go on living for anymore…"

Draco stared at her, grasping at facts. So Artemis had died, probably from some malady at birth, and he hadn't known because he was at home, drinking. And then…Luna had attempted to kill herself, and he had gotten there just in time. He shuddered to think how close of a call it had been. "Everyone's gone…the only person I have right now is…_him…" _she mumbled, clinging even tighter to Draco's person. "He loves me, and it hurts. Because I love him too." Draco's throat constricted, his heart thumping inside his chest. "…but we can't…" His eyes closed in defeat and he felt a sudden loss of senses overcome him. How many times was Luna going to reject him? How many times could he take it? Maybe he should take a leaf out of Luna's book and drown himself in the nearest body of water.

…but no. He gazed at Luna in her fitful sleep. Luna needed him right now, and-

"Mmf…why aren't I dead?" she mumbled.

Draco whispered in her ear, insides twisting as he once again manipulated her. "I saved you. Don't ever try to kill yourself again…it's better to live and forget than to die and regret…is that a promise?"

Luna nodded sleepily. "For you…I promise."

"Good." He rested a hand on her forehead again. Her fever had gone down.

-------

It was early evening. Draco continually checked her temperature. It stayed normal. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it would end; she couldn't have possibly stayed sick forever. Still, it had been nice, these last few days. It gave him something to do, with the person he wanted to be with. Luna's murmurings grew to a minimum, until she no longer spoke a word and slept peacefully in his arms. He sighed. He knew he had better get going, before she woke up and realized he was here. He gently untangled himself from Luna, placed the covers over her, left several bottles of potion on her bedside table so when she awoke they would be within reach, and quietly let himself out with one last look of longing over his shoulder.

-------

Draco absentmindedly rubbed the flask of poison between his fingers. Here he was again. He stared at the flask, wondering what it would be like on the other side.

He uncapped it and tilted it towards his mouth, then hesitated. No. He deserved the pain. He _wanted_ the pain, in fact. It would just be another remembrance in his already sad and sorry life. He closed his eyes, sardonically toasted to Luna, and drank straight from the bottle.

He drank every last drop, dropped the flask, and closed his eyes, waiting for death to settle over him and bracing himself for the imminent pain.

Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes to find a house-elf peering up at him, concerned. _"Get away from me!"_ The house-elf recoiled. "This flask. What did you do with it?"

The house-elf examined it. "A flagon of pumpkin juice, sir. From the pantry."

Draco sighed. Next time he would label all the toxic substances in the cupboard "bottled poison". Still...maybe it was some sort of sign, not that Draco was particularly into all that karma type stuff. He needn't kill himself over heartache, loneliness, pain, and being cast out as a leper by society in general, right?

He tried to smirk, but it came out as a sort of weak grimace. He was Draco Malfoy. Nothing tied him down. He needed to move on and leave the past behind him. Start all over again. Live life to the fullest. Live life like there was no tomorrow, as if every day were his last. All those other clichéd sayings.

He went to his study, unlocked the drawer holding the worthless letters and the sketch and dumped them all into the fireplace. He watched as all his hopes curled and blackened into ashes, not quite sure if it was the smoke watering his eyes, or something else.

-------

**A/N:** This chapter makes me wince but at the same time it's my favorite...don't ask, I'm weird. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, it makes me feel like this story isn't so worthless after all...as you can see, I am very hard on myself, when I looked over April Rain Song a while ago it looked like complete and utter rubbish to me but all in all, it wasn't too bad and I definitely like how the sequel is coming on but I have some doubts...expect a little twist in the next chapter. Or is it that I always have a twist in each chapter?


	4. Coming Full Circle

**Disclaimer:** Knock, knock. Who's there? JK Rowling. JK Rowling who? Um, that one British author that isn't me. Yes, yes, a very poor joke, but as it fits the purpose of this disclaimer you must laugh anyway.

-------

Early December. Draco currently held a job at a Muggle office (it was mostly dull paperwork and he was surrounded by idiots, but at least the pay was good, he had magic, and nobody bothered him) and would be attending a Hogwarts reunion tonight with an attractive witch he had met last week.

"Draco, you look positively divine!" purred Gloria as she came up behind him and grasped his shoulders, looking admiringly at his reflection in the mirror. Draco smirked as he fixed his tie. "So divine I should receive a little something later on this night?"

Gloria slapped him on the shoulder playfully. "We'll see. If you behave well." She planted a kiss on Draco's cheek, threw a fistful of Floo powder into the marble fireplace in Draco's bedroom, and stepped in. "Hogwarts," she said clearly, and before she disappeared she gave him one last seductive smile.

Draco brushed a nonexistent speck of dust off his robes, which he had made in a boutique in London for this occasion. It couldn't hurt to look nice. Besides, he needed to make an impression. Just because he was considered Death Eater sludge did not mean he had to act or look the part. As he stepped into the emerald green flames, his thoughts slid over to Luna.

He hadn't thought of her in weeks. His heart beat a little harder in his chest. Would she be at the reunion? It was an open invitation sort of thing for those who had attended Hogwarts around the time Saint Potter was there in his teens. Draco knew Potter would be at the reunion; the whole damn thing revolved around him, for God's sake. But Luna…suddenly he remembered he was still in his fireplace and that Kathleen would be waiting impatiently for him. "Hogwarts," he said, and shut his eyes, trying to block out the motion sickness by summing up an image of a lake with calm and still waters. But all he could see was a pair of eyes, blazing with silver fire.

-------

"You certainly took your time!" exclaimed Gloria as Draco stepped out of the flames of one of the several makeshift fireplaces lining the entrance hall.

"I was looking for…something," said Draco dully, not bothering to come up with a good excuse.

"Well, did you find it?" she asked, examining her nails, not really interested.

"No. I don't think I ever will," he said truthfully.

"That's nice. Come on, you have to escort me." She linked arms with Draco and steered him to the Great Hall, where the reunion was taking place. Crowds of wizards and witches Draco vaguely remembered from his Hogwarts years-they were all just so faceless and forgettable-milled about, sipping drinks daintily, politely greeting people they didn't quite recall ever seeing in their lives, and exchanging playful banter and witticisms with old friends, flames, and foes in an attempt to outshine each other via embellishment and braggadocio. How Draco hated the predictability of society.

A live band was playing music he did not care for. It was like incessant noise buzzing in Draco's ears, growing louder as Gloria weaved her way in and out of the huddled groups of social parasites, making her way to the refreshments table by the raised platform where the band struck up another fast-paced song, dragging Draco along with her. She eyed the appetizers and settled for a goblet of pumpkin juice. Draco stood beside her, trying to bite back a yawn.

"Gloria!" squealed a girl wearing large hoop earrings and orange lipstick to match her garish robes.

"Cathy!" Gloria squealed back. Draco flinched.

His date latched onto her friend. "Oh! We have so much to talk about!" she gushed. She turned towards Draco. "Do you mind being on your own for a few minutes?"

Draco didn't particularly care. "No, I-" he started to dryly reply, but Gloria had already disappeared into the multitudes with her companion. He heaved a sigh and drummed his fingers on the table. What to do now?

"Hello, Malfoy," said a voice sleekly next to him. Draco jerked his head towards the sound and found himself face-to-face with someone he hadn't expected to see, let alone wanted to see. "Zabini," Draco acknowledged him curtly.

"Fancy meeting you here," said Blaise Zabini casually.

Draco merely grunted. "Let's just skip the formalities and cut to the chase, Zabini. You want something, I'm going to say no, you're going to sulk in a corner, and I'm going to go to bed tonight with one less burden."

"You underestimate me, Malfoy," said Zabini, shaking his head and smiling. "That's a bit too predictable, don't you think? Not much of a strategy."

"Yeah, well, you never much of a strategist," yawned Draco. "I recall I was the master behind every devious scheme we put to work at Hogwarts."

Zabini stopped feigning smiling. "Please, don't flatter yourself," he said coldly. "I simply wasn't driven back then. But now I have a cause. Remember what I said about underestimating me."

"Oh, right," said Draco smarmily, albeit sarcastically. "I'll jot it down in case I forget. Maybe I'll refer to it when I plan to write my memoirs, 'All The Rubbish My Good Mate Blaise Ever Told Me Throughout My Life.' I'll be sure to send you a free copy when my agent owls me."

"Wouldn't really want one, thanks," replied Zabini coolly. "But you know, those of us that still remain are still waiting for the chance to revolt. I'll give you one more opportunity to join the uprising willingly. Make your choice, Draco; are you with us, or against us? Choose the winning side."

"Giving me an ultimatum, are you?" said Draco breezily. "Wouldn't have expected any less of you. But let me tell you something, Zabini-remember our conversation? Tea, and everything? You asked me if I'd forgotten. The answer is yes-I've forgotten many things. But one thing I will never forget is the old Malfoy pride, and a Malfoy is never given an ultimatum."

"Is that some witty and superfluous way of saying you're against us?" asked Zabini through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously.

Draco applauded his former friend in mock delight. "Impressive, you've caught on. Funny, you're not as thick as you look."

Zabini looked at him sneeringly. "Knew you were bound to sink low as a blood traitor. Ever since sixth year…with Dumbledore and all…"

"Is that some vague-hinted comeback you're using so you can impugn upon my nerve?" asked Draco, bored. "No need to clap, I've gotten the gist of it before the words even came out of your mouth. Now get the bloody hell away from me, I've got better things to do than to talk with some predictable dimwitted git I've had the misfortune to meet when I was younger-like stare blankly at that bit of ceiling over there, for instance."

Zabini's lips twitched as if he had tasted something very bitter. "Very well," he said, this time feigning politeness, "I'll leave you to your precious ceiling. I've wasted enough time as it is, trying to get a message across your thick skull. Perhaps I overestimated you-forgive me, I'll take note to find someone else less lacking in wits next time." And with that, he took a step back, where a wave of people washed over his erect figure and he was carried away with the tide of oncoming former Hogwarts students in a hurry to meet an acquaintance over there, or an old professor over here, so that in the blink of an eye he was gone.

Draco snorted and poured himself a goblet of butterbeer. Zabini was just trying to intimidate him, a futile attempt on his part, Draco noted with a kind of grim satisfaction. As if he would cave in the instant Zabini snapped his fingers-he, Draco, would rather eat dung than let that git push him around-

"-Luna, I'm really glad I've found you-I thought you'd be here, that's why I came-I really need to talk to you," pleaded a voice nearby.

Draco choked, and quite a lot of butterbeer sloshed down the front of his robes. With a hasty tap of the wand his robes were free of stains and he whirled around frantically, trying to detect the source of the voice-

It was Ginny Weasley, and she did not look very well. Pale and withdrawn, she was wringing her hands, her fiery red hair hanging lank and dull, her face plain without the usual carefully applied makeup-the perfect image of despair. "Luna, please," Ginny implored.

Luna looked back at her, expressionless, her face unadorned but pretty. Draco felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of her. She wore bright blue robes embroidered with electric yellow unicorns that were charmed to gallop from the hem of the skirt to the back of her left sleeve, green and orange striped leggings, and pink ballet shoes. Her straggly hair was pulled to the side with glittery rainbow-shaped barrettes and she donned the usual radish earrings and bottle cap necklace. Her attire attracted many disapproving stares and ridiculing laughter, but Draco didn't mind-he found her eccentric way of dressing endearing and quaint.

Draco leaned forward, eager to hear the conversation taking place between the Weaselette and the girl he'd been pining for over the past few months. With an imperceptible nod, Luna allowed Ginny to pull her into an isolated corner. Draco edged himself closer to them, hiding himself behind a large potted plant, its fringy leaves tickling his nose.

"I know you think I'm the worse friend ever…I can't blame you if you hate me-and I don't expect you to forgive me-but I am sorry, and I just wanted you to know," said Ginny earnestly, tears sparkling in her eyes. "But I honestly didn't know that you and Harry were still together-he told me you two split-and I've been feeling horrible about it since and I was livid at Harry for lying, we kept trying to find you but you just vanished, and I felt even worse when we found out you were pregnant…and I'm really, really sorry, and I know this won't make up for it…" Tears streamed heavily down her cheeks now. "I hope you could understand that I didn't intentionally hurt you-and you can be hard on me all you like, I know I deserve it."

Draco made a face-it sounded and looked like a very emotional speech the blood traitor could have practiced in her bathroom mirror.

"It's okay," Luna murmured and Ginny threw her arms around her, sobbing. "And I'm not with Harry anymore, I haven't been since…that day…" whispered Ginny guiltily. By "that day" Draco knew she meant the day Luna had caught her and Harry in the bedroom.

Luna nodded, and Ginny let out a weak-hearted laugh that turned into a grimace, tears still flowing freely from her eyes. "I'm sorry for being so melodramatic…crying all over you…but you've got to promise you won't hide from us anymore-Ron and Hermione and Neville have been worried sick about you too-we're your friends, Luna, we want to be there for you."

Luna smiled at her gratefully.

"And…where's…the baby?" asked Ginny eagerly, scanning the room as if Luna had ordered it to stay hidden until she made up with her estranged friends. Draco ducked as her eyes darted past the plant he was concealing himself behind.

The smile vanished. "He died," Luna said without any flicker of emotion.

Ginny froze. Her eyes swiveled over to Luna. "Oh, Luna…" breathed Ginny, reaching for her friend again. "I am so sorry, you should have told us, we would have helped you…"

"It's okay," said Luna again. "He was sickly ever since birth, the Healer said it was a miracle he'd lasted that long…I just wish I had been a better mother." She smiled wanly, although the warmth of it did not reach her empty eyes.

Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh no, Luna, I'm sure you were a wonderful mum…if the Healer said he'd been sick ever since he was born there wouldn't have been anything you could do about it. Does Harry know…?"

"Yes, I sent him a letter," said Luna vaguely. "He came to the funeral…it was just us two, and the eulogist…he wanted to stay with me but I told him I wanted to be alone."

Draco gritted his teeth. He should have been there for Luna at the funeral, not Saint Potter…he seethed at the thought of Luna and Harry together.

"I was wondering where Harry left that one time…" said Ginny softly. "He came back with his eyes swollen and red, but we didn't want to press him about it."

"Ginny? Luna?" Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Harry came over, forcing Draco to duck underneath the table. He pulled up a bit of the tablecloth and peered at the scene unfolding before him-or rather, above him, as he was on the floor.

Hermione was crying as she hugged Luna. Ron awkwardly gave her a pat on the shoulder, mumbling incoherently, and Neville, his face looking flushed, embraced her too, murmuring anxiously. Draco glared daggers at Harry, who enfolded Luna in his arms hesitantly in a brief one-armed hug. The next fifteen minutes were comprised of the six friends chatting gaily with one another, telling stories, recollecting fond memories, and bringing everyone up to date with their current lives, each masking their guilt, grief, and hurt at what had happened in the past. There had only between two awkward silences, one being after the end of their dying conversation, where Harry took Luna by the arm and led her away, asking for a private word. Draco crawled out from underneath the table, bent on following Luna. He looked up to find Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville looking down at him in a mixture of surprise and revulsion. Oh, damn.

"Hello," drawled Draco, quickly standing up and dusting off his robes. "Granger…Weasels… Longbottom."

"What were you doing under the table, Death Eater?" asked Ron spitefully.

Draco scrambled to find an excuse. "Er…looking for my fags, I needed a smoke. I've got them now." And he patted his breastpocket for emphasis. He spotted the wedding bands on both Ron and Hermione's fingers. "Ah! Married, are we? Knew you two would end up together. Well, congratulations."

"Thank you!" Hermione beamed at him in a watery sort of way, as she had been bawling her eyes out just twenty minutes ago. Ron, however, was not to be won over as easily. "Funny thing, you just happening to come out after Harry and Luna leave…" and he narrowed his eyes at Draco.

"Oh, they were here? Didn't know," replied Draco sleekly. "Best be gone now, loads to do, people to see, all that tosh…tell Saint Potter I said hi…" and he quickly walked away before Ron had a chance to retort back. His mind raced as he ducked and dodged his way expertly throughout the sea of social climbers and socialites, wondering where Luna and Harry had got off to, what they were doing now…his insides coiled in anger-if Harry made any moves on Luna he was going to curse the four-eyed git into oblivion…

"Draco, thank goodness I've finally managed to find you!" A manicured hand grasped his right arm as he was unceremoniously pulled down to somebody's waiting lips…for a moment he could pretend it was Luna, but no-Luna's kiss was soft and sensual, yet ardent and vivacious-the person he was snogging with now held nothing but contemptible lust, their kiss sloppy with greed. He hurriedly jerked away to find Gloria staring up at him, disappointed. "You didn't like it?"

He had completely forgotten about her. "Er…yeah I did, it's just I don't feel up to public displays of affection right now," said Draco, running his fingers through his hair to find that he couldn't, as it was heavily weighed down with gel. "Let's call it a night."

"Oh, I concur." Gloria batted her eyelashes at him, a coy smile on her lips.

Draco rolled his eyes at her pathetic attempts to seduce him. "No, I mean alone, I'd rather be by myself tonight. I'm going to leave soon…you can go home with your friend, can't you? The one with the tacky earrings and poor taste in cosmetics?"

Gloria pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Whether it was the opportunity for a little fooling around lost or the verbal insult directed at her friend was unclear. "What happened to our plans?"

"Something came up," said Draco brusquely. They stared hard at each other, fiercely struggling with their eyes, until Gloria gave in. "Fine," she said, rather snappishly, "but don't expect me to owl you anytime soon." She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Draco, indifferent, looked around, intent on finding Luna. Someone bumped into him. "Oof, sorry-" Draco rounded on them, his mouth opened furiously when he received a sudden shock-it was Professor Trelawney. She looked batty as ever with her shawls and beady necklaces and glittery oversized spectacles, a glass of sherry in one hand, although her hair was now heavily streaked with gray. She hiccupped, and looked him over waspishly. "The Malfoy boy who called me a fraud and broke all my good teacups, hmm?" She pointed drunkenly at where she thought he was, although she was off by at least three feet. "You gave me quite a lot of trouble back then, you insufferable hoodlum."

"…sorry?" Draco said distractedly, still searching for Luna.  
"I suppose that's the best apology I'll get out of you?" sniffed Trelawney tipsily. "Well that girl you're looking for is in that unused classroom just outside here, on the right. And don't hold your breath." And with that the drunken seer tottered away, mumbling something about having to use the restroom.

Draco stared after her. "How did she…" The old fraud was useful after all, he mused, as he sprinted out of the Great Hall and skidded over to a small door by the marble staircase that had been left ajar. Voices drifted out from the gap. He leaned in closer to eavesdrop.

"…I know, Harry," Luna was saying wearily. She was perched on the teacher's desk and turned to Harry, who was standing. The only distinctive feature Draco could see of Luna was her copious amount of dirty blonde hair, as she had her back turned to him.

"And I'm saying it again," said Harry stoutly, whose profile was visible even in semi-darkness. "I know what I did was wrong, and I'll apologize a million times if I have to."

Luna didn't answer and looked away.

Harry tentatively reached out and took Luna's hand. Draco wanted to scream.

"I hate it when you do that," said Luna softly.

"What?"

Luna sighed and looked out the window. Draco noted, with much annoyance, that she hadn't shaken Harry's hand off and had actually let the git absentmindedly stroke the top of hers, their fingers interlaced.

Harry cupped Luna's chin and turned it slightly. "Look at me, please."

Luna looked up at him, her luminous eyes even more vivid in the moonlight. "Harry, I already told you-"

"I hate this," said Harry in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. "Every time I touch you, you flinch, every time I say a word, you look away. It's like I'm plague, or something."

Luna bit her lip and stared determinedly at the ground; Harry pushed her chin back up again. "I'm trying," he said despairingly. "Doesn't that count?"

Luna opened her mouth to reply, but Harry beat her to it. "No, don't tell me, I know the answer already," he mumbled. "It's just that…" He let his fingers slowly trace her lips, then reached up to tuck loose strands of hair behind her ears. "You're beautiful, Luna. And as much as you don't want to hear it, I love you."

There was a pause. Then- "You…you do?" Her voice cracked. It was barely even a whisper.

Draco stared, transfixed. There was a roaring in his ears but he was rooted to the spot. His instincts were telling him to get over there and punch Harry so hard he wouldn't know what hit him. But Draco couldn't move. For the first time he was seeing Luna as the deer in the headlights. Her own little game had turned against her. She couldn't use her eccentricity as a façade. She had no barriers of deviance to put up this time, and those long standing had been knocked clear away. She was as vulnerable and naked as Draco had felt when Luna had caught him in the front of her apartment.

"You have no idea," breathed Harry. He leaned in, his mouth getting nearer and nearer to Luna's, who had looked very uncertain before and was now closing her eyes and parting her lips. The utter reality of it-they were actually going to kiss-was what broke Draco's inability to move. The vein in his temple throbbing, he burst in and strode over to where Harry's mouth had just barely closed gently over Luna's. "Get off of her!" he snarled. He seized the front of Harry's robes and threw him down on the ground. "And you-!" he turned on Luna, who looked like she had snapped out of a trance. "Draco, what-?" she asked, confused, but Draco had snatched up her arm and was dragging her out of the room so forcibly Luna was winded, and so swiftly that Harry didn't have time to get up and stop him. He pulled her up the stairs, into a classroom, and out to the balcony the classroom led off of. It was there where Draco dropped Luna's hand and leaned against the parapet, surveying her. "What was that all about?" he asked calmly, although his piercingly cold eyes and rapid breathing said otherwise.

Luna was clutching her bruised wrist. Draco found that he was not at all sorry. "I…Harry…" she trailed off.

"Yes, I saw your little display," said Draco through clenched teeth. "The question is, why did it happen?"

Luna was very pale. "I don't really see how this is any of your business," she said politely, trying to maintain her usual blatancy.

"Come again?" Draco said, livid. She had some nerve-what had he been doing all these months? Of course it was his business.

Luna's eyes looked at him, wide. "Whatever happens between Harry and I doesn't concern you," she repeated. "If I wanted-"

"DIDN'T I TELL YOU THAT I LOVED YOU?" Draco yelled furiously. "AND WHAT, HIS CONFESSION WAS BETTER THAN MINE, OR SOMETHING?"

Luna flinched. "I…I didn't know what I was doing," she whispered, looking down at the ground again. Draco took a leaf out of Harry's book and pushed her chin back up so she was looking directly at him again. "What do you want from me, Draco?" She sounded tired, and it pissed Draco to no end.

"What do I want?" he repeated disbelievingly. "YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT! I WANT YOU!"

"But Draco, I've told you before-I can't-I mean, we can't-" Luna's voice was desperate.

Draco pushed her away from him and looked over at her, disgusted. "Of course. This has nothing to do with us. Saint Potter says jump and you ask how high."

"No, I never said-"

"You know what you are?" Draco pressed on loudly. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing to me. I take back what I said. How could I ever love a scrawny little bug-eyed lunatic? Why don't you run off to Potter and give him a good shag, if all goes well you'll get knocked up by him a second time. Isn't that what you've always wanted? Or are you afraid that he'll run away from you again?"

Luna stared up at him wordlessly. Her eyes had gone quite blank, masking a deep hurt Draco knew he had just inflicted upon her, although she had no idea how much he regretted it now. "Then there's nothing left for us to say to each other, then," she deadpanned. She turned to leave. Draco seized her shoulders, guilt rapidly spreading throughout his body like wildfire. "Luna…you know I didn't mean that," he whispered urgently, his eyes worriedly scanning hers. They were still ominously vacant.

"Oh, but didn't you?" said Luna quietly. She took his hands off her shoulders. They hung at his sides uselessly. He looked down at her, a lump forming in his throat.

"Please leave. I don't want to see you ever again." Luna delivered the final blow. "And don't lay a hand on Harry again, he's done nothing to you." With that she left, without a single look back over her shoulder at the man whose heart she had promptly ripped out and torn into pieces, this time with no bittersweet kiss to soften the blow.

Meanwhile, a pair of slanting eyes glittering with malice looked on, a beginnings of a plan forming in their owner's mind.

-------

**A/N:** Okay, now that I look back at the chapter, there really is no twist. Lol. I just said that so you'd get excited. Also, regarding the OoCness of Ginny, or some other character in my story-just pretend to be them for a moment, in the situation I forced them in (insert evil smirk here)-I think their actions/reactions are very fitting, no? And so…please review. I have a gun to my head right now and by simply reviewing you determine whether I blow my brains out or not. Heh, I'm just joking, but figuratively speaking, uh, no, I'm not.


	5. All Square

Draco knew he had screwed up, big time. He knew that there was a very good chance that Luna would not be so forgiving this time, that there would be no dreamy looks and zero of "It's quite all right, Draco". He buried his face in his hands. What was wrong with him? When had he become so obsessed? Why was it Luna who stirred such feelings inside him? They roused up, mercilessly clawing their way up into the depths of his heart, eating away at the walls he had used to shield himself from the rest of the world for so long. The fortress had been brought down, and he would go down with it.

Father was right, he thought miserably. There is no room in life for emotions. He lifted his goblet of rum. A mere drop fell to his waiting, partially opened lips. He set the goblet down with a resounding thunk. "Hit me," he said hoarsely.

"Hey, cheer up," said the bartender, flicking his wand so that the auburn liquor poured from the tip and refilled Draco's goblet, "you look like you've died there, mate."

Draco grasped the stem of his goblet and raised it to his mouth. "So why would you care?"

"I don't," admitted the bartender. "It's just policy to placate customers."

Draco scowled and downed the liquor. "I'm not paying you to, as you say, _placate_ me. I'm paying you to hand me drinks until I pass out. So let me wallow in self pity or you will lose a very valued customer."

The bartender shrugged and turned away. Draco drank. His mind was shutting down. "Why should I care?" he asked himself aloud. "I'm not desperate." Even as the words left him, they sounded like the small defiant words of a little boy whose pride had been wounded. And that was what hurt the most.

-------

Luna shivered in the cold, even though she was wearing her warmest cloak. Wisps of breath curled out from her mouth as she exhaled. Her fingers were numb and she was sure her toes were getting frostbite. Still, she continued to look up at the towering manor, her gloved hands wrapped securely around the bars of the gate that barricaded it in. It had been approximately two hours since she had been standing here in hopes of glimpsing a silhouette stirring in one of the yellow squares cascading light onto the snowy grounds below. It was a futile and rather pathetic activity to be immersed it on such a wintry night, what with the holidays being so near, and Luna knew it.

"This is ridiculous, Luna," she scolded herself. "I thought you weren't the type to do such petty things." She stopped there. No conscience vs. instinct internal conflict soliloquies for her today. She pressed her forehead against the metal bars of the gate and closed her eyes, thinking back to the events of last week…

_After leaving Draco on the balcony, she had found herself sitting morosely at home, wondering why she was resisting so hard. Was it because somewhere deep inside her supposedly untainted, forgiving, and carefree heart she still resented Draco for what he had done during the war? He had killed quite a few innocent people, after all and fought for pureblood supremacy. Then there was Draco himself. Not the past that enfolded him, but his mere presence. The darker aspect to Draco that frightened her. He had stalked her for God-knows-how-long and physically hurt her out of rage a few minutes ago. He stabbed her with words so biting cold, and it unnerved her how quickly he switched from malicious to remorseful in a matter of seconds. Weren't those homicidal psychopathic tendencies? And yet, however twisted it seemed, Luna took comfort from it all, because in a deranged sense she knew it was Draco's way of showing that he cared._

_The doorbell rang just then. "Come in," Luna called. She knew exactly who it was and why._

_The door swung open and Harry promptly stepped in. There was frost decorating his shoulders and hair, but he was apparently too wrapped up in emotional turmoil to care. He saw Luna in the kitchen and took the chair across from her, neglecting to take off his shoes, which were making puddles on the floor, or his cloak, the frost on it melting and dripping onto the floor as well. His framed eyes surveyed her with a mixture of worry and anger. "Are you all right?"_

_"Of course, Harry," Luna said. She smiled. "Why wouldn't I be?"_

_"Why did you leave?" Harry's voice was abrupt and sharp._

_"You're making a rather awful mess on my floor," said Luna, still smiling. "Look at all the mopping up I'll have to do now, because of you."_

_"Why did you leave?" Harry's words echoed crisply. _

_Luna sighed. Harry was not to be distracted, then. "I just felt like being alone, Harry. Is that so wrong?"_

_"What did he do to you?" Harry asked sharply. "Did he hurt you?"_

_"No." The answer was swift. The truth…almost. Luna played nervously with her sleeve. Draco really was a man of strength, she mused. She almost found it funny until Harry caught onto her suspicious behavior and pulled up her sleeve, revealing a wrist purpled with a rather large bruise. Luna inwardly winced at the slight pressure on her contusion._

_"I'll kill that bastard," Harry growled as he took out his wand and lightly tapped her wrist so that the injury disappeared._

_"Oh, he didn't mean any harm," said Luna hastily, taking back the arm Harry was still cradling in his._

_"Didn't mean any harm?" said Harry disbelievingly. "Luna, his point in life is to inflict harm. What did he want with you?"_

_"To talk," mumbled Luna. _

_"About what?" said Harry, exasperated. "What on earth could you talk about with a Death Eater?"_

_Luna looked at him severely. "He's not a Death Eater anymore, Harry. And just because we've shared some recent history together does not mean I have to reveal private matters to you. We're not together anymore, Harry. Don't you realize that?"_

_"Wait-what?!" Harry looked livid. Oh dear, Luna thought. I really do have something for short tempers, don't I? "So when you kissed me that meant nothing to you?!"_

_"Correction: you kissed me." said Luna mildly._

_Harry waved it away. "You know what I mean."_

_Luna leaned forward and grasped Harry's hands. He quieted and gazed at her with a slightly perplexed expression on his face. "Thank you for being so good to me, Harry," she said. "I'm not sure I deserved it as such. I love you very much and I hope we can remain as close as we have been over the past years. This does not mean, however, that I wish to further our relationship into something more. Or what it once was. You shot that dream, and I'm afraid I cannot simply just pick up where we left off."_

_Harry lapsed into thought. He unconsciously played with Luna's hands as he did so. They were large and callused and exuded warmth. "I guess you're right," he said at last. Now he looked merely sad. "It was stupid of me to think…well…you know."_

_"No, it wasn't," Luna said firmly. She let go of Harry's hands. "Are you now planning to pursue Ginny now?" She asked, point-blank. _

_"I don't really feel like pursuing anyone at the moment," Harry said. "You took a lot of energy." And he broke out into a grin, to let her know that he was joking. Almost. But then he turned serious again. "I don't want to go down that road again. Too much history. And you're a hard girl to forget, Luna."_

_Luna smiled in response and took a sip of her hot chocolate. The silence was no longer deafening between them, as it had been so many times before. Now it was…almost tranquil. As Luna relaxed into the quietude Harry's voice encircled her. "Luna…?" he said, hesitant._

_Luna snapped out of daydreaming mode. "Yes?"_

_"I know what you said, but…what interest does Malfoy have in you?" Harry said in a rush. _

_Luna pushed away her mug and stared at a coffee stain on the Formica table. "He's just lonely."_

_"Stay away from him." Harry's voice cut through the peaceful silence between them like a knife._

_Luna looked up at him defiantly. "I mean it. I'm saying this as a friend," Harry pressed on, undeterred, "a close friend who cares about you and what happens to you."_

_"Harry, I am perfectly capable-" Luna began dignifiedly, but Harry interrupted, suddenly sounding anguished. "No, you aren't! Luna, don't you get it? No one in this world is as wonderful and perfect and good as you think they are! You need to stop with that naivety with yours or you'll find yourself lying in a ditch dead somewhere-in fact it's a miracle you haven't suffered a fatality yet-"_

_"-Harry," said Luna loudly. "I need some sleep, and I want you to leave."_

_He stopped in mid-rant. His hands had balled into fists without his realization. He slowly uncurled them and collected himself. "Sorry," he muttered. "But, you know…I-"_

_Luna nodded gravely. "I know you do."_

_"Okay then," said Harry, reassured. He got up from his seat and took slow, heavy steps toward the living room then stopped, suddenly spinning around to look at Luna again. "You're not-?"_

_"I'm not mad at you."_

_"Oh, okay," said Harry, relieved.__ He paused. "Think over what I said, okay?"_

_Luna nodded again vigorously._

_"I'm serious," said Harry. _

_"Harry, I-"_

_"Just promise me you won't go instigating some sort of encounter with him."_

_"But-"_

_Harry's eyes darkened. "I know him better and longer than you think you do, and he's been nothing but bad news since day one. He was a Death Eater, Luna. You can't deny that. Promise?"_

_Luna sighed again and surrendered. "I promise, Harry. But can I trust you not to frequently check up on me from this point on?"_

_"With mild reservations," said Harry, a sheepish smile twitching his lips. "See you, Luna."_

_"Mmm." Luna returned to her mug of hot chocolate, her ears attentive to the slightest noise, including the sound of Harry's footsteps and the gentle click of the door being closed. She smiled and hummed to herself. There was an aspect to Harry that confused her greatly. He went through great lengths to protect her when it was unnecessary, perhaps to the point of what people might call controlling, obsessive behavior. He always seemed paranoid and defensive, always on the alert. There was no speed limit when his suspicion was aroused and there was no such thing as the benefit of the doubt in his book. It should have scared her but instead she took comfort._

_Because in a deranged sense she knew it was Harry's way of showing that he cared._

Luna's eyes flew open. What was that sound? She spun around, her perpetually wide eyes getting impossibly wider, just as a dark, hooded figure advanced toward her. Leaving her no time to whip out her wand and perform a lifesaving counterjinx, the figure hissed out a few well-chosen words. Or rather, well-chosen enough to make Luna keel over unconscious onto the frosted ground, her head colliding with the gate and her wand tumbling into the snow, leaving Blaise Zabini free to wrench Luna up roughly and clumsily into his arms and Disapparate with her.

Meanwhile, inside the manor, Draco was nodding off in an armchair by the fire, wondering whether Luna had gone to bed yet…

-------

**A/N:** Omg. I finally updated. :O Yes, this chapter is horrible and the characters are all OoC, but I don't know what to do with myself but to go on trying to finish this story. For my sake (and possibly yours. Depends.).


	6. Out of the Loop

_Tap, tap._

Draco stirred and opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep by the fire.

_ Tap, tap._

Draco shook his head and rubbed his eyes, wincing. His back ached and his legs were stiff. _Next time, try staggering to your bedroom before sinking into depression that spawns spontaneous slumber…_  
_  
Tap, tap._ This time, it was more insistent and loud.

Draco looked around irritably. Where was that bloody tapping sound coming from? He located the source-a southeast corner window of his study. An owl was flapping in the breeze to stay aloft, and judging by the indignant sounds coming out of its beak, it was extremely impatient and annoyed. Draco hobbled over there and opened the window. The owl swooped in, dropped a letter on his head, and swooped out.

Draco was flummoxed. Who would be writing to him? It couldn't be…could it?

He bent over and picked up the letter. The envelope was unmarked. Draco tore it open, coaxed out the parchment and read:

_Malfoy-_

_Meet me in that old warehouse we used to hang out at during our younger years alone. Important. If you come, it'll be the last time I'll bother you, and I'll swear that on the Dark Lord's grave._

_-Zabini_

Draco scowled. It sounded very fishy, of course. Zabini asking him out for tea again? Decidedly not. He deliberated whether or not he should go-if he didn't, the curiosity would prick his conscience to bits. If he did…what could Zabini do to him, really? So as long as Draco had his wand, nothing tremendously bad could happen, he reasoned.

Draco went to the bathroom and splashed his face with cold water. He stared at his reflection. He looked…unsettled. Shrugging it off, he returned to his study, threw on his cloak, and made sure his wand was secure in its holster. He Disapparated, still remembering the exact location of the long-ago abandoned warehouse where they had smoked the pipe Zabini had stolen from his father and thrown rocks at skittering rats. It was with this action that Draco ultimately decided to pay his former friend and comrade a visit, for one last time. After all, what harm could it do?

--

The warehouse looked as old and abandoned as ever. Draco wondered why on earth Zabini would want to discuss so-called urgent business here, of all places. So he, Draco, could think back on all the good times they used to have together, have a good cry and sudden aching longing, and come crawling back? Exactly what kind of pathetic tactics and desperate measures had Zabini resorted to? Draco was about to find out. He kicked candy wrappers and the remains of a beer bottle out of his way and tried to open the door as quietly as he could. It was no use; it made a terrible groan as it swung open, a strangely ominous sound.

Draco entered. Before his eyes could adjust to the darkness someone boxed his ear. The blow caught him by surprise and he fell to the ground. "Get up," said a voice.

"Zabini?" Draco tried to get up, but Zabini kicked him in the mouth and he fell over again. Draco licked his bleeding bottom lip. "This is childish, you know."

"I said get up," returned Zabini pleasantly.

Draco tried once more. Zabini took out his wand. "_Crucio!_"

Draco jerked uncontrollably as pain seared through his body, tightlipped. He wouldn't scream for a bastard like Zabini. He wouldn't scream for anybody.

"I told you not to underestimate me," said Zabini comfortably, Accioing Draco's wand into his unoccupied hand. He pocketed it and performed the Cruciatus Curse several more times. It felt about as pleasant as electroshock therapy. "Silly, silly Draco, when will you ever learn?"

Draco was shaking a little, although certainly not from fear. "So what? Are you going to torture me until I consent to your will?" jeered Draco, feeling a numbness eating at his legs. His nervous system was out of whack. "This is pointless. Any decent ex-Death Eater can withstand torture. I can take whatever you throw at me, it can't be any worse than the Dark Lord. And if you try to kill me, you'll just be doing me a favor."

Zabini continued smiling at him. "You see, I did think about those two marvelous ideas. But I saw the flaws in them, as you just now confirmed. So, I opted for something a little more…clichéd." He flipped a switch; Draco didn't even know the wiring in this place still worked. The lights flickered on.

Draco stared, his breath caught in his throat.

"Although nonetheless effective, I see," said Zabini smugly.

Luna hovered in the air, immobilized, her head inches from grazing the ceiling. Her feet dangled above a tank of green water that occasionally crackled with yellow bolts. She stared blankly at them.

Draco was shaking again, not from fear, not from pain-but from blinding white fury. "How long-" he spat out.

"Last night," answered Zabini smoothly. "It appears you have a stalker, Malfoy. I found her at your gate before I took her hostage."

Draco blinked. Stalker? Luna?

"So can you, even as a _Malfoy_," continued Zabini, twirling his wand and causing his hostage to make listless revolutions above them, "turn away from an ultimatum such as this? What would you like, dead lover by my hand or dead Muggles by ours?"

Draco struggled to get up. He swung wildly. Zabini kicked him again and Draco doubled over. "You really are risking quite a lot by attacking me," Zabini said, smiling. He twitched his wand a little. Luna dropped an inch closer to the turbulent water. She continued looking empty-eyed at them.

"What…?" Draco's mind was going numb. This was what Luna had meant about the circles. He had messed up the grand design. It was all his fault that Luna was being held captive by this bastard. He should have stayed content in his little ring of woe and bit the dust consciously like he'd always planned. Now…now it was too late. "Did you hurt her?" said Draco through gritted teeth.

"Oh, I thought about giving her a couple of rounds with the ol' Cruciatus Curse, you know?" said Blaise conversationally. "But she's no fun. She's so unresponsive it's almost like she's already dead. Didn't put up much of a struggle. Poor taste, Malfoy, poor taste."

Draco clenched his fists. He couldn't make any sudden moves. The result could be fatal on Luna's part. "The water…" Draco stalled.

"Oh yes. The water," nodded Zabini. "Obviously, it's detrimental. Charged with numerous curses. And of course it'll hurt. A lot. It's good to have a contact in the Department of Mysteries."

"The wiring in this place seems to working," Draco commented.

Zabini stiffened. "I'm not stupid, Malfoy. Quit stalling. Join me in my conquest or both you and Luna die."

"Oh yeah? You and what army, Zabini?" challenged Draco. He had a hunch, and if he was right, escaping from his estranged friend's clutches would be a snap.

"There are henchmen stationed all around the warehouse," replied Zabini.

"I don't see any." Draco looked around.

"It's the wonders of magic, you mong," said Zabini.

"What if I don't believe you?" asked Draco.

"Are you willing to call my so-called bluff?" asked Zabini. "Use Legilimency all you like, I'm quite skilled in Occlumency as you very well know."

Draco faltered. A few moments later, he hung his head shamefully. "I…I'll join you," he muttered. "Just let Luna go."

"Ah, but only if it were that easy," said Zabini delightfully. "You must take the Unbreakable Vow with me first."

"There's just one problem," Draco said, crouching.

"What?" Zabini was unperturbed.

"We have no Bonder," replied Draco and with that he threw himself at Zabini, who fell over with a thud in a mixture of surprise and indignation. His wand, knocked clean from his hand, clattered to the floor and skittered to a corner. Draco straddled Zabini and dealt him blow after blow; Zabini's arms were flailing, trying to defend himself, but all he saw were stars. When Zabini's eyes were swollen shut, Draco wrenched his wand from Zabini's pocket and pointed it at Zabini's throat. "Next time you try to lie, try not to twitch your left eye," said Draco. "Like I said, you were never much of a strategist. _Stupefy_, you bastard." He magically made Zabini unconscious, although it had been an inevitable state anyway. Draco's anger had fueled his desire to beat Zabini to a pulp, but nothing further. Draco didn't want to kill anyone anymore, not even a git like Zabini, because then the nightmares would come back. Also, killing was an acquired taste. He had lost it.

Draco made a mental note to write to the Ministry about an ex-Death Eater running loose with a Department of Mysteries experiment. That would certainly stir things up with the Wizengamot. He turned to Luna's motionless figure. "Luna. Luna, are you okay?" he asked urgently.

Luna's lips struggled to move. "Decidedly not," she rasped.

"I'll get you down." As he made a motion to release her, she shook her head.

"I'm not going to leave you here," said Draco stubbornly, suddenly worried that Luna had gone suicidal.

"Tank," she croaked.

"Oh. Right." Draco wheeled the tank of cursed water out of the way. With a wave of his wand Luna's frail body dropped into Draco's arms. She was so light it was almost frightening. Draco stared into the gaunt features of the girl who had been the target of his obsession. "I'm sorry," he said.

Luna feebly tried to push him away. "Put me down, please."

"But-"

"Please."

Draco obligingly set her down. Her knees buckled underneath her and she almost collapsed, but Draco's hand shot out fast and gripped her arm. "Let go," said Luna weakly. Draco dropped his hand. She stumbled around once, twice, three times, before clumsily Disapparating. Draco watched with an oddly detached feeling. Let go. Yes, that was what he should do.


	7. The Circles Interlock

It was an unusually warm day. Draco stood on the ornamented bridge of the spring, his hands resting on the rail. The wind stirred his hair. He tipped his head back to the sky. Sunlight bathed his face in its warmth. His breathing was normal and his heartbeat was steady and his life wasn't over and for the first time in a long time, he felt alive. He got off the bridge and put his hand in the water, bringing it to his face for a drink. The water rippled in response to the disturbance, but soon relapsed into its usual placidity. Draco stared at his reflection. He looked terrible, but that was nothing new. He picked up a pebble and skipped it across the surface of the spring. It bounced five times before it plunged into the spring's depths. Draco thought of the pebble laying there, amid thousands of other pebbles, silent and motionless in the dark. What could it possibly be waiting for? he wondered. To his amazement, the pebble rose from its watery grave and shot past him. Draco turned around and saw it fly into the hand of a straggly-haired, protuberant-eyed young woman. She rubbed it around and around between two fingers before skipping it all the way across the spring, until it landed on the opposite shore, once against amid thousands of other pebbles. She kneeled on the ground and did the same to another pebble. Her flickering eyes watched the pebble, long after it had settled quietly on the other side of the spring, hands folded in her lap, as if she were praying.

Draco stood there and watched her, hands in his pockets, bracing himself for imminent rejection. Luna had dismissed his advances so many times they just rolled right off…or he was hoping so, anyway. Back arched and shoulders stiff, eyes icing over to remove all signs of turmoil, Draco waited for the excuses to come spilling out her mouth as she got up and drew near him.

It was then Luna surprised him with the most lucrative of all the kisses. One that resonated not of bittersweet refusal, but instead brimmed with apology, regret, and the promise of not tomorrow, not a lifetime later, but of today-right here, right now. And it was Draco who pulled away this time, gazing in awe at the inscrutable treasure he had finally come to possess, almost in a stupor.

Luna smiled dreamily. "'Spring is imminent, especially for those long awaiting it.'"

Some might say it was a spur-of-the-moment, nonsensical quip coming from a raving bug-eyed lunatic, but Draco begged to differ. And as he locked lips with Luna again, he swore he heard a bird sing-a sweet, melancholy sound, echoing off into the distance, its trill shining bright with hope.

**A/N:** Ugh. Fin.


End file.
